Page 53 of Knotting else Matters

“Flowers are ready. Went to load the van. See you at breakfast. —A”

I stared at the note, a faint, ridiculous smile tugging at my lips. He was just… Adrian. Predictable, infuriating, and somehow always exactly where I needed him.

I dragged myself out of bed, wincing as the sweet, aching soreness flared, a fresh rush of heat coloring my cheeks. Gods, I’d never felt like that before—wild, desperate, like I was losing myself and finding myself all at once. Like I could tear him apart, devour him, and never get enough.

Shaking off the blush, I dressed quickly—black jeans, a faded band tee I dug out of my bag, and a quick, messy ponytail that did little to hide the faint mark on my neck. The one I should have been furious about. The one I couldn’t stop smiling at.

The inn was a rustic, charming little place—warm wooden walls, beams crisscrossing the low ceilings, soft, floral curtains fluttering in the open windows. A cozy dining room with a handful of round, wooden tables, each set with delicate, mismatched china.

Breakfast was laid out on a long, buffet-style table—fluffy scrambled eggs, thick-cut bacon, freshly baked croissants, a pile of golden pancakes drizzled with syrup, and a pitcher of fresh-squeezed orange juice. My stomach growled, and I grabbed a plate, piling it high, my mood brightening with every bite.

The door swung open, a warm, sunlit breeze sweeping in, and there he was—Adrian, his tall, broad figure cutting a perfect silhouette against the golden light. His dark hair was tousled, his shirt clinging to his chest, and a faint smudge of dirt stained the white fabric.

“Did you decide to wrestle the flowers yourself?” I teased, raising an eyebrow.

A slow, crooked smile spread across his lips. “Just making sure we had the best ones. Wouldn’t want your sister’s big day to be anything less than perfect.”

“Oh, how noble.” I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms, a faint, wicked grin tugging at my lips. “My hero, covered in dirt, smelling like a freshly plowed field.”

“Charming.” He stepped closer, and I caught the faint, wild scent of him beneath the warm, earthy musk, and gods, it made my heart race all over again.

“I bought you something,” he announced, reaching into his back pocket, a mischievous glint in his dark eyes.

I frowned, leaning forward. “Adrian, I told you I don’t need your money. I’m not in… whatever this is… for your fancy gifts.”

“Oh, I know.” His grin widened, and he pulled out a small, plastic-wrapped package. “Which is why I didn’t spend a fortune. This is a souvenir from the farm’s gift shop.”

I snatched the package from his hand, already rolling my eyes, but the second I tore the plastic, I froze.

It was a watch. A cheap, plastic watch in the most obnoxious combination of lavender and pink I’d ever seen. The kind of thing a twelve-year-old girl would wear to school, complete with glittery flowers on the strap.

“You…” I looked up at him, and he was grinning, that dark, wicked smile that made my stomach twist in the best way. “Are you serious?”

“You’re always late,” he shrugged, folding his arms, leaning against the table. “Thought you could use some help keeping track of your time.”

I laughed, a wild, sharp sound that drew a few curious glances from the other guests. “This is… this is hideous.”

“But functional. And now you have no excuse.” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, rough murmur. “Wouldn’t want you losing track of time and missing out on our… arrangements.”

“Oh, please. Like you’d let me miss anything.” I shook my head, slipping the ridiculous watch onto my wrist, the glittery strap a perfect, absurd contrast against my black jeans.

“Exactly.” His voice softened, a faint, warm light in his eyes. “I’d never let you miss a thing.”

A flutter of something warm and treacherous twisted in my chest, but I buried it beneath a roll of my eyes. “Well, now I have a stylish, sophisticated way to be on time. I’m sure Sophie will be jealous.”

“Oh, absolutely.” He leaned back, grabbing a plate and helping himself to breakfast. “And you’re welcome, by the way.”

“Thank you, oh noble Alpha, for blessing me with such… elegance.” I lifted my wrist, wiggling the glittery, ridiculous watch at him.

“Glad you appreciate it.” He shot me a grin, and for a moment, the world felt warm and bright, the slow, lazy comfort of the inn wrapping around us, the distant buzz of conversation, the scent of fresh flowers drifting in through the open window.

And beneath it all, the soft, steady ache in my chest—the quiet, treacherous truth I refused to acknowledge. That I liked this. Liked his smile, his teasing, the wild, electric thrill that pulsed between us.

And gods, that was dangerous.

Adrian sipped his coffee, his gaze steady, calm, but I didn’t miss the faint, wicked smile tugging at his lips. “If in two or three weeks, you’re ready to accept actual gifts from me, I’ll get you a real watch.”

I nearly choked on my croissant, the airy, buttery pastry catching in my throat. “Two or three weeks?” I laughed, but it came out shaky, a little too forced. “I’ll be gone by then.”

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